


Simmer Down

by MintChocolateLeaves



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Baking, F/M, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2020-05-19 17:16:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19361239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintChocolateLeaves/pseuds/MintChocolateLeaves
Summary: Kaito loves sweets. Aoko (sort of) loves baking. They're a predestined match.-OR, Aoko tries to confess through the art of baked goods, and Kaito doesn't really understand, but he'll be damned if he turns down any of these free treats.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively named: _Stolen fruit is sweetest (so let me steal you)._
> 
> For Poki.

Aoko doesn’t really mean to develop a bug for baking.

It’s a little like an addiction, she supposes. But it’s not her fault. If anything, it’s that idiot Kaito’s fault – because she wouldn’t bake so much if there wasn’t someone for the treats to go to.

So yes, maybe it’s _Bakaito’s_ fault all along.

It definitely is.

* * *

“Aoko,” Kaito says, and his voice is slightly tired, since he’s starting to fall asleep at her kitchen table, “can we stop now?”

It’s not that Kaito isn’t a diligent student, Aoko knows that he is, really, somewhere deep down. It’s just that, there are bags under his eyes, as if he’s had a few late nights recently.

Aoko had dragged him out of his house early this morning, instead of letting him sleep in – a waste, she thinks, of a perfectly good Sunday – to try and get their joint history project finished.

It’s not due for a while, but if they finish the report then they can relax and won’t have to worry about it anymore. Plus, maybe then, Kaito will have enough time to finish whatever tasks are keeping him up at night, so he can sleep _properly_ for once.

God, what does a guy like _him_ spend his nights doing anyway?

Probably planning stupid magic tricks, that are neither stupid, nor magic. Still, he should learn not to be so obsessive over things to the point where he loses sleep. It’s not healthy, and it leads to things like this, him slowly drifting off at her kitchen table, despite the fact that it’s _weird._

Kaito is supposed to have boundless energy, jeez. It’s weird if he’s sleepy.

“I suppose we can take a break,” Aoko says, eventually, leaning back in her chair. They _have_ been working for a while now, and a quick glance at the clock shows that it’s almost noon. “I’ll cook something for lunch.”

This would normally be the point, Aoko thinks, where Kaito would spring up and suggest something that could be made. Instead, he lowers his head onto the table and lets out a small groan.

It’s weird, in the fact that Aoko thinks it’s a very normal teenage thing to do, and thus, not like her friend at all.

“You’re so cruel,” Kaito complains, “waking me up so early. I wanted _sleep.”_

“I woke you up at nine a.m. Bakaito,” Aoko says, “it’s not too early. If you didn’t stay up half the night, then you’d sleep like a normal person.”

Kaito gives her a faint-hearted glare, that only sleepy, called-out people are capable of replicating. It’s like, a sleepy gift that the gods bestow on night owls or something. Aoko isn’t completely sure.

She wouldn’t know. Like a sane person, she _sleeps._

“I’m going back to sleep.” Kaito says, adjusting his arms so they’re beneath him, acting as a pillow. It can’t be comfortable, and Aoko just knows he’ll wake from his nap with a cricked neck, but she doesn’t stop him.

“I’ll wake you up when the food is ready.”

Kaito hums and that’s enough of a response for Aoko. She heads to the kitchen, ignoring the idiot asleep at her kitchen table, and heads towards the rice cooker instead.

She could make onigiri. It’s simple and she should have some pickled plums that she could put into them. And some canned tuna. It seems she can go with a selection of onigiri then.

Setting the rice cooker up doesn’t take long and setting the filling and nori on the kitchen side isn’t a long task either.

Aoko sighs. With Kaito asleep, she’s left to just think, trapped in her own head. She wouldn’t mind putting the radio on or just doing _something_ fun, but Kaito had always been a light sleeper when they’d had sleepovers as kids and she doubts that’s changed.

If only he had a little burst of energy.

Dammit.

Although – actually, maybe that’s something she could go with. Onigiri is good at being filling, but it won’t give Kaito a burst of energy immediately, so maybe she could make something else too, something a little sugary?

It could be a nice treat to keep them motivated for their project too. God only knows what Kaito could get up to if he gets too bored and distracted, Aoko’s only just gotten the glitter out of the cushions from last time.

What ingredients does she have?

There is a Tupperware box in the pantry that is filled with random ingredients used for cooking. Inside, there is flour – a small bag of plain and another with self-raising – and some sugar. Aoko grabs both.

They don’t have eggs, so there’s no chance of making any cakes, but they might be able to…

Aoko leaves the bag on the side, grabs the scales from beside the Tupperware box and then heads towards the fridge. Butter – unsalted – sits on the top shelf, mostly forgotten until now.

Perfect.

Only a few ingredients, but she knows that it’ll make something sweet and tasty. She’s not cooked the recipe she has in mind for a long time – not since she was a child and her father had a little extra free time – but she knows she can make something nice.

Grabbing a mixing bowl, she begins by weighing out the sugar, and the butter, before beating them together into a mix with a spoon. To some, Aoko supposes the mixing of ingredients would seem monotonous, but to her, the repetitive movements are almost calming.

Then, she sieves in the flour.

Or, well, she attempts to. She pours too much into the sieve at once, creating a plume of flour, like a soft cloud that tickles the back of her nose. Aoko resists the urge to sneeze.

“Oh wow,” Aoko mutters to herself, trying to sieve the flour into the bowl, and managing to dust the kitchen counter instead. “Why does it always have to be so messy?”

She turns, glances at Kaito, watches his breathing, his shoulders rising and falling ever so slightly. She grabs a stray handful of flour, tiptoes over to him, and blows it in his direction.

He twitches. Aoko supresses a laugh, settles on grinning at the flour dusting his hair, before turning back to her bowl. There’s not much left to do now, just stirring in the flour, and then baking the mixture in the oven.

Then… she can get started on the onigiri.

You know what, she’s going to force Kaito into doing the dishes, it’s what she deserves. And what he deserves too, for being so lazy and not helping with the cooking.

Not that Kaito can cook, really. Or rather, nothing other than instant ramen and the odd store-bought curry mixture. Without her and her dad, he’d be unhealthier than the skin and bones he is now. Ugh.

“Kaito’s so stupid,” Aoko says, as she remembers that she forgot to preheat the oven. She’ll just have to put the mixture in after she’s made the onigiri rather than during the making of each rice ball.

Oh well. She’ll leave the mixture in the fridge for a while to set then.

Behind her, sprinkles of flour across his shirt, Kaito continues to sleep, unbeknownst to her hard efforts. It almost makes Aoko want to kick him.

* * *

Here’s a truth that Aoko hasn’t quite accepted yet: She’s pretty sure she’s in love with the pain in the ass idiot who’s napping at her kitchen table. She’s been trying to hide it for a while, because really, she’s only _pretty_ sure, and not one hundred percent certain of it.

Like, sure, his smile makes her stomach flip, and she finds herself looking forward to seeing him, which could be a symptom of love, but the former could be stomach issues and the latter could be like, a brain tumour or something.

Maybe she should get checked out to be doubly sure.

Because even if it _isn’t_ sickness, then it’s probably insanity because really, this is _Kaito._ Chaotic, irritating, _handsome_ Kaito.

“No!” Aoko grumbles to herself, because of those labels one shouldn’t belong and she definitely doesn’t want to start considering how handsome her best friend is while he’s right there.

 _Shut up brain,_ she thinks to herself, _he’s not. Kaito’s too stupid to be handsome._

 _‘Denial,’_ sings the little voice in her head that sounds like him. It’s frustrating to say the least.

“Shut up!” She snaps, and then, lifts her hands up, slapping the blush from her cheeks. It’s not very effective – the skin still burns, but now there’s a stinging too. “Idiot Bakaito!”

The idiot in question, ever so slightly lifts his head up from the table, squinting across at her. Lifting his hands up to rub at his eyes almost makes him look cute, but Aoko knows him.

Cute or not, this boy is still a menace and she will not be fooled.

“What’ve I done now?” Kaito whines, his words long and drawn out, similar to the yawn that follows.

Aoko, not sure how to form an answer, decides simply to point, waving her hand up and down the general form of his body.

“You can’t just point at all of me!” He says, and then, pushing himself up, he points back. “You woke me up to point at me!”

“You were snoring,” Aoko says for lack of any reason to be calling him an idiot. “It was very annoying.”

“I do not snore!”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t!”

“How would you know you don’t snore,” Aoko says, crossing her arms now and leaning forward, “if you’re asleep? You wouldn’t.”

Kaito glowers in a way that shows Aoko that she’s probably going to be the victim of a magic trick again soon, but for now, she savours the glare. Because for one of the first times in her life, Kaito does not have a comeback.

“I’m right and you’re wrong,” Aoko says, “end of discussion. Now sit down, I’ve made onigiri.”

The glowering falters and Kaito, muttering something under his breath about how he’s going to prove he doesn’t snore, sits without arguing.

It’s a welcome change to the usual bickering, Aoko knows, and she finds herself smirking as she does so. She places the onigiri on the table and then, eagerly, she skips back to the oven, grabs the oven gloves and slides them on. Then, pulling open the oven, she brings out the baking tray, looking down at her creations.

Aoko grins.

“What’d you make?” Kaito asks, popping up beside her, almost making her jump out of her skin. “They smell good.”

He looks down, and Aoko sends him a look that says, if he doesn’t know what she’s made then he’s an _idiot._

“Cookies?”

“Shortbread.” Aoko says, placing the tray down on the kitchen side. “We don’t have eggs, so I couldn’t make cookies.”

Kaito hums, leans forward and like the thief he adores so much, attempts to grab one. Aoko smacks him with her oven gloves. He gives up easily enough, a smirk pulling up at his lips.

“I didn’t know you needed eggs to make cookies.”

“Of course, you didn’t,” Aoko says, hitting him with the oven gloves a second time, watching as he dances backwards, “you’re so good at chemistry but it doesn’t seem to translate over to baking.”

“We all have our flaws.”

Aoko turns from him, grabs the rest of the sugar she’s weighed out, and sieves it onto the shortbread. A sugary treat that hopefully will make them feel a little more energetic.

“You use the eggs to bind the ingredients,” Aoko says, finally, realising that Kaito’s practically leaning on her shoulder, watching her. She tries to avoid the flush that rises from her neck. “If you don’t, they’re all crumbly. Although, I guess you could use something else to bind the cookies together. It doesn’t have to be eggs.”

Kaito hums.

It’s at this point, that Aoko decides to scoop some of the shortbread pieces onto another plate. She brings them to the table, the plate clinking against the table as she places it down, slipping into her seat.

“Thanks for the food,” Kaito says, and leans forward for one of the shortbread pieces. Aoko, frankly, doesn’t know what she was expecting. Kaito’s always had a sweet tooth, of course he’d go for the sugary things before the onigiri.

Aoko, someone who does things in the _correct_ order, grabs an onigiri and after muttering her own thanks, takes a bite.

She watches Kaito bite into the shortbread, watching as he chews, waiting for his verdict. For a moment, she’s worried that she’s made something horrible, but then, he grins.

“They’re good,” he says, around a mouthful. “I didn’t know you liked baking?”

Aoko’s cheeks burn. His eyes are bright, something she’s seen before when he’s tried new treats that please his sweet tooth but hasn’t exactly caused herself. Wearing an expression like that, how could she _not_ be in love with him.

Her chest feels slightly tight, and it’s his fault, the _bastard._

“Aoko?”

She blinks, realises that she’s simply been staring at him, remembering that he’s waiting on a response.

Does she like baking? Not really. But she loves that light in Kaito eyes, and Aoko kind of wants to replicate it. If baking manages that when she shares the end products with him, then by association, she does.

“Yeah,” she says, expression softening as she looks down at the plate. “I love baking, even when it annoys the hell out of me.”

“Well, you’re good at it,” Kaito says, and for once, the compliment isn’t brushed aside in the form of a defensive insult. “You should do it more often.”

“Maybe.”

* * *

_Maybe,_ in this context, means _I will,_ but Aoko can’t just say that. If she did, then Kaito would think she’s baking for him, and sure she is, but _he’s_ not allowed to know that.

* * *

Kaito is grabbing his bag, class finishing for the day when Aoko corners him. She’s giving the impression that he’s not going to be able to escape, which, of course, is kind of impossible, since Kaito is a mastermind when it comes to disappearing.

It puts him on guard, slightly.

She’s been pretty calm during class today, and Kaito’s hardly done any outlandish magic tricks that might have pissed her off, so he can’t think of why he might have annoyed her into cornering him.

And she wouldn’t corner him for any other reason that to chase him for being a nuisance, probably, so Kaito is officially confused.

Oh well, he can already feel himself getting ready for a chase. He’s always enjoyed it when Aoko chases him, her attention on him, the two of them racing around, playing cat and mouse.

Er well – maybe cops and robbers, because Kaito doesn’t really think he fits the role of being a _mouse._

“Aoko,” Kaito begins, taking a moment to eye her up and down. She doesn’t _look_ like she’s about to attack, but it could be a ploy. “What’ve I done?”

She scrunches her nose, eyebrow quirking up, questioning. Like he’s being the strange one for asking, when she’s the one who’s cornering him in the classroom.

He kind of just wants to head home so he can start planning out his next heist. There’s a new exhibition and he needs to know what security they’re going to be applying for this one ahead of time.

“What are you talking abou–” Aoko shakes her head. “You’re so weird. I wanted to know if you were free tonight.”

Oh?

Aoko doesn’t often ask him if he’s free, not with confidence like this. Last time she asked if he was free, she stuttered and got all nervous with her words. If she’s not entering the house dragging him out, then she’s usually embarrassed about asking him to do something with her.

Part of him is curious.

The other, wiser, part of him tells him to be cautious.

“I might be…” Kaito says, squinting. She’s up to something, probably, but he can’t tell what. Maybe something innocent, but also maybe a plot to get him back for annoying her. “Why?”

Aoko waits a second, and then, the confidence almost seems to disappear. She crosses her arms, and says, “I just wanted to know if you were coming over for dinner with Dad and I today. It doesn’t matter.”

Ahh – yeah, he said he’d come over for dinner a few days ago. He’d almost forgotten. He’d have headed to the blue parrot without the reminder, and now, he’s almost tempted to bail because the heist is _important_.

But Aoko’s face.

He never likes watching her crumple, getting quieter. She’s meant to be feisty, to fight back with him and not just _take it._ Him not coming wouldn’t be too bad, would it?

Unless… Well, Inspector Nakamori has been working a lot of late nights because of him, hasn’t he? So maybe Aoko’s lonely. He’s making Aoko lonely? So… wouldn’t it be right to go anyway, and just stay up later to plan the heist?

A good plan, if he may say so himself.

“Sure, sure,” Kaito says, waving a hand. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

Aoko smiles, one of those smiles where he can see the dimples in her cheeks. Kaito pushes down any thoughts that might spring up from an expression like that, pushing himself forward and heading for the door.

He pauses, turning back for her. He asks, “are you coming?”

“Of course, I am!” Aoko says, stalking forward. She falls into step with him, and then, “I need to get groceries on the way back.”

Kaito groans. Whenever Aoko drags him shopping, it always leads to _him_ carrying the bags. And she somehow always manages to make them heavy.

“If you complain,” Aoko says after a moment, and it sounds coy, almost mischievous, “then I won’t let you have dessert.”

Kaito narrows his eyes. He says, “what’s the dessert?”

“Nope,” Aoko says. “It’s a surprise.”

Aoko doesn’t usually do surprises, nor does she cook dessert, so Kaito, is officially confused.

“Bu–”

“Nope,” Aoko says. “I’m not telling.”

Kaito has half the mind to claim that Aoko might be _up to something._ He just doesn’t exactly know what that is.

* * *

In the store, as she’s inspecting eggs, Kaito leans forward with a guess.

“…Cookies?”

Aoko smiles to herself, shaking her head. She’s not going to tell him, not until she’s cooking, purely because it’ll frustrate him. As much as she’s excited to see Kaito trying this next recipe, she’s also amused to watch him guess.

“Not cookies,” Aoko says. They head to the next section of the store, where she picks up cocoa, and dark chocolate. She can almost see Kaito’s excitement.

He loves chocolate, after all.

Gosh, why is she spoiling him anyway? He’s not done anything worth spoiling him for this week. Although, well, the one magic trick he showed her in the park on the way to school yesterday morning was beautiful, with the doves, so maybe it could be a treat for that.

Yes, she’s baking because she wants him to know she appreciated the magic trick– not because she’s–

Aoko isn’t fooling anyone. She knows why she’s baking.

“Tell me!” Kaito whines, and when she turns, placing the chocolate into the basket she’s making him hold, she leans forward to flick him on the forehead. Careful not to crack the eggs in the basket, he doesn’t move quickly enough to avoid it. “Hey!”

“Patience,” Aoko says, because jeez, someone needs to teach him the word. “You’ll know later.”

“But I want to know _now!”_

“Tough,” Aoko says, trying not to laugh as he rubs at his forehead. Kaito’s grumbles send her over though, leaving her shoulders shaking as he stares down at her.

She turns, looking for other ingredients. She throws baking powder inside as well, and then, heads for ingredients for their dinner. Curry, she thinks, because there’s meat on sale and it’s easy to make.

“You’re going to have to carry the potatoes,” Aoko says, pointing towards a small sack of them. If she’s going to be using him as a pack mule then she might as well get him to carry things she wouldn’t want to if she were shopping by herself.

“Right,” Kaito says, voice dry. “Sure.”

“I would carry them,” Aoko says, “but they’re heavy, and I don’t want to.”

He makes a sound that seems almost like a mixture between a growl and a whine. “Okay.”

* * *

Brownies.

Aoko is making brownies and Kaito is stuck, watching her as she moves because she’s banned him from coming any nearer than the counter. Maybe because she’s already caught him reaching for a slab of the chocolate, slapping his hand away.

Honestly, Kaito’s getting slow if Aoko’s able to catch him.

Or maybe he’s just not trying hard enough.

Either way, Aoko’s making _brownies,_ and all Kaito is allowed to do, really, is watch as she makes them.

He’s trying to finish his homework at the same time, since well – he is here already, and if that’s out of the way, then later tonight he can focus on heist planning completely – but he keeps getting distracted.

Kaito isn’t entirely sure _why_ he’s getting distracted, because really, she’s not doing anything out of the norm, and it’s just _baking._ Maybe it’s because she seems so in her element that it’s hard _not_ to watch her.

The little crease between her eyebrows as she sieves. The way her shoulders seem to relax, none of the usual tension as she mixes her ingredients, folding them together.

Aoko doesn’t seem to get excited like this, very often. A quiet excitement that lives in the curl of her lips, the flick of her wrist as she whisks the brownie mixture.

She really must love this. Baking things.

Kaito is completely, utterly, enraptured.

“What’re you looking at?” Aoko says, catching his eye as she begins to add the eggs into the mixture, sifting it with the flour.

“Nothing,” Kaito says, immediately defensive.

“Liar.”

“Not a liar,” Kaito says, “I’m just distracted by the chocolate.”

Aoko shakes her head at him, lets out a small laugh. She says, “you love chocolate too much.”

“There’s no such thing as _too much_ Aoko.”

Well, even he can admit there is but, not for him. He’s very tamed in his eating of chocolate, even if he loves it, and it tastes good. And oh god, thinking about the chocolate just makes him want to have some.

So much for tamed.

“After dinner you can have the brownies,” Aoko says, “but for now you have to wait… and finish your homework.”

Why does he have to do his homework if _she’s_ not doing hers. Kaito sighs but relents. Fine.

A thought fills his head as he leans back over mathematics homework. He says, “you know, if you like baking so much, why don’t you join the cooking club? You won’t have to spend as much on ingredients then.”

Aoko hums, takes a moment to click her tongue, thinking the concept over. It’s not like she’s part of any after school clubs, to be honest, so it’s not like she’s short on time.

“Maybe,” she says finally.

“Keiko’s in that club, isn’t she?” Kaito says after a moment, musing over it. “You wouldn’t be alone if that’s what’s making you worried.”

For a moment, Aoko focuses on stirring the mixture, folding it in on itself over and over. Then, she says, “I’ll think about it.”

* * *

Aoko decides to join the cooking club when she sees Kaito’s eyes light up that evening around a mouthful of brownies. It’s just – how does she explain to Keiko, that she’s suddenly interested in cooking, without admitting it’s because of Kaito?

Oh no, she’s totally going to get teased, isn’t she?

* * *

Surprisingly, Keiko doesn’t tease her at first.

Maybe because Aoko doesn’t tell her that she’s been baking recently, and simply makes out that she wants to learn to cook a little better. Her friend pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and smiles instead, telling her she’ll help her get signed up.

In fact, no one really teases her the first few meetings. Not Asuna, who loves making cutesy foods despite her cool personality, or Megumi who enjoys adding fruits into pastries. And poor Kanae doesn’t tease her since everyone teases her about her crush on the captain of the karate team, so Aoko doesn’t really need to worry.

Aoko bakes every other day during school, and she takes buns, treats and fruit tarts home with her, offering them all to Kaito whenever she sees the lights on in his house.

It becomes a routine that she isn’t teased for, and honestly? Aoko finds herself enjoying the process so much more than she had previously. If anything, Aoko finds that she feels a lot less… lonely than she used to.

Ah, another thing she won’t admit to.

* * *

“This is becoming an addiction,” Kaito tells her one day on the walk to school, when she procures a little box with a muffin inside and passes it over to him. “You know that, right?”

Aoko flashes him a coy smile, skipping forward a little bit so that she can turn slightly and for a moment it almost catches Kaito off guard.

“For me or for you?” She asks, as if she _knows._ Of course she knows though, Kaito has never been quiet about his sweet tooth. But still, to tease _him_ when he was trying to do the same to her?

This girl has too much power over him.

That’s not fair at _all._

“For you, obviously.” He says, even though his voice aches to say _for both of us._ “My sweets intake is perfectly _normal_ thank you very much.”

It really isn’t. Geez, his blood sugar levels are probably raised from all of these. His blood is probably more sugar than blood at this point.

Not that Kaito will complain.

“Sure, sure,” Aoko says, waving the words away. “I’m trying something new with Keiko today, so we’ll have some at dinner tonight. You’re still coming?”

Kaito, rolling his eyes, nods his head. He says, “Do I usually miss things when I say I’ll come to them?”

“I just wanted to be sure,” Aoko says, and then, after a moment longer. “Tell me how you find the muffin later, okay? I said I’d meet Kanae this morning!”

She runs ahead before Kaito can even realise who she means by Kanae. She must mean Matsuoka Kanae, the shy one from class 3c, right? Kaito hadn’t thought that they were on a first name basis.

Although, really, hadn’t Aoko mentioned that the cooking club were all quite informal with one another? All of them close with an immediacy that she’d not really experienced before.

Eh, who cares.

“She’s so weird,” Kaito mutters to himself, looking down at the muffin box. He opens his bag, placing it inside. “I bet she’s up to something.”

* * *

“I was thinking we could try a few different flavours,” Keiko says that afternoon, when Aoko is tying up her apron. It’s a plain apron unlike the polka dotted one she has at home, but it serves the same purpose. “Since we’re practising for the culture festival.”

Aoko crosses her arms, taps her finger against her cheek to try and muse over the different flavours. When Megumi had explained that her class had decided on running a café for the festival, they’d all jumped at her request to help her with the baked treats.

Now they just have to decide on what they want to make.

“I think we should go with the more popular flavours,” Aoko says. “That way everyone has at least one flavour that they might like.”

“How about, lemon, vanilla and pistachio?”

Well, they are quite regular flavours for the macarons they’re going to attempt, but they’re missing a flavour.

“And chocolate.”

Keiko raises her eyebrow. She says, “You like cooking chocolatey things, don’t you?”

For a moment, Aoko pauses, and then, a startled laugh catches against her throat.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

Keiko catches Aoko’s eye for a moment, and then, glances across at their other club members, the other three working together on ideas for fruit tarts they could make. She says, “Who knew that Aoko had a sweet tooth? Did you guys know?”

Asuna jumps at the topic, leans forward. Her fringe covers her eyes for a moment, a grin forming on her face. It feels sinister. “I’ve never seen Aoko eating the chocolate creations, you know?”

“Oh yeah!” Megumi continues, “Aoko always takes them home with her, but I’ve never seen her try them.”

Kanae lifts her hands to her mouth, gasping. She says, “I bet that she’s giving them to someone.”

“A boy?”

“Definitely a boy.”

Aoko feels fire dancing across her skin. It rises up her neck, across her cheeks, burning her from the inside out. She wishes that her hair wasn’t up in a ponytail, because at least then she’d be able to hide behind it.

“D-Don’t be stupid,” Aoko stutters, “I would – I wouldn’t – no _way_ I’d go around cooking things for a _boy.”_

“Sounds like denial to me,” Megumi says.

“So, there _is_ a boy,” Asuna continues, leaning forward on the counter, as if she wants to climb over and shake all the information free from Aoko’s brain. “All we need to do is find out who.”

Aoko looks to Kanae for help – surely, she will help because she understands what it’s like to be teased like this – and finds no ally in her. She looks too excited, like the rest of them.

Then, she turns back to Keiko. Her best friend is watching her, and tilts her head after a moment, her pigtails swishing beside her. A smile, slow, spreads across her lips.

“I know who it is,” Keiko says.

“Keiko!”

“It’s Kaito-kun from class, right? You two have been close _forever.”_

Aoko feels like her cheeks are burning so much that she might just pass out. She tries to stutter _no’s_ and _it’s not like that_ but they catch until all she’s mumbling is nonsense and gibberish.

“Kuroba Kaito?”

“Kuroba-kun is so handsome, wow Aoko, you’ve got good taste.”

“He’s got a big sweet tooth,” Keiko says, “and he _loves_ chocolate. It’s _definitely him.”_

For a moment, Aoko stares between them all, horrified and embarrassed, and then, very slowly she lifts her hands up to her face to hide behind them.

“Aoko’s seducing Kuroba-kun with her cooking!” Kanae says, and she’s blushing too now, as if the entire concept is scandalous. “You’re so bold, and here I thought you were innocent.”

“Hah,” Aoko sinks to the floor, “shut up, I don’t like Kaito, he’s such a pain!”

Keiko leans forward, grins. She says, “We didn’t say anything about you liking him, just cooking for him. You added that yourself.”

Aoko lets out a small squeak, and decides that even if it is ungraceful, she’s going to try and disappear in a ball on the floor. Keiko joins her, light dancing across her gaze, but Aoko tries to ignore her.

“Kanae said I was trying to seduce him!”

“Oh yeah, okay, that’s true.” Keiko pauses, and then, “are you sure you’re not trying to seduce Kaito-kun with all your baked goods?”

Another squeak. Aoko feels almost like a mouse surrounded by house cats.

 _I’m so sorry Kanae,_ she thinks to herself, _I won’t tease you ever again. This is so embarrassing!_

“I don’t want to seduce Kaito!”

“Aoko’s lying,” Megumi croons, her voice almost like a song. She’s far too happy about this. She’s the devil. “You give them to him, right?”

“Stop!” Aoko says, weakly. When she looks up, she’s surrounded by her clubmates. Keiko sat beside her. Kanae and Asuna stood behind Megumi, who’s leaning down to face her.

They’re all waiting, expectant, for the truth.

“Ugh, _fine.”_ Aoko pushes herself up, brushing the creases from her uniform. “I like baking for Kaito. But it’s not because I want to seduce him – I just… it makes him happy, okay?”

“Ah,” Kanae says, throwing herself forward, her arms around Aoko’s body in a tight hug, “Aoko you’re so cute. This is so much better than seduction.”

“They say the way to charming a man is through his stomach.”

“You guys,” Kanae says, turning back and pointing at each other their clubmates, “we need to help Aoko make the best treats so she can win over Kuroba-kun. I won’t take no for an answer!”

“If Kanae’s fired up then of course we have to help too!”

Aoko blinks, watches her friends together as they start to come up with different recipe ideas and is uncertain whether she wants to disappear or hug the four of them.

“Can we just make these macarons now, please?”

* * *

You know, Kaito’s not oblivious, he does _notice_ things.

He’s by no means a detective – someone shoot him if he ever takes that avenue of work – but he does pick up on things. Like how, at some point, the other members of Aoko’s club always seem very attuned to his presence whenever he comes to meet Aoko at the end of the day to walk home with her.

Not that he _wants_ to wait, but sometimes he’s on cleaning duty and no matter how he wants to Aoko always manages to say something that makes him decide to stay back the rest of the time, waiting to walk home with her.

As he’s come to realise: She holds power over him, and it’s annoying because there’s nothing he can do about it.

Either way, he notices that the girls are attuned to him. In a – they always seem to quieten slightly when he comes, which he supposes shouldn’t be surprising but is.

Some of them always send little looks to the others, and Kaito feels like whatever Aoko is up to, they must be in on it to. And it’s probably no good at all. These girls must be _demons._

He almost feels tempted to just wait for Aoko by the school gates, but then she’d probably make a scene or get angry at him or something. And honestly, he doesn’t want to piss her off when she’s so fresh from cooking.

…There are knives in those rooms.

He’d much prefer to be chased after with a mop than a knife.

“Aoko?” He says this time, since it’s another day where he’s being held back, waiting for Aoko. He’d gone to the library today, doing some research on his phone for heists, looking at the building plans that Jii has emailed him. “You ready?”

He turns the corner into the classroom and pauses at the sight of the five girls each covered with flour and trying to look as innocent as possible.

Kaito raises an eyebrow.

“Do I even want to ask?”

Asuna shakes her head. She says, “it’s probably for the best if you don’t.”

He turns to Kanae, who nods her agreement. To Megumi, who shrugs her shoulders. Then, to Keiko, who offers only a smile, before focusing on Aoko. Aoko who wide-eyed, is shaking with restrained laughter. She hides her mouth behind her hand, trying to remain silent.

Kaito, perhaps acting on his best impulses, simply raises his hands up and says, “this is me, _not asking.”_

“We’re almost finished now, Kaito-kun,” Keiko says, moving the conversation on, as she slowly pushes Aoko away from the over and back towards the buns that’ve been left on the cooling racks. “We just need to clean up.”

Aoko turns, reaching past the buns to grab hold of a cloth that’s by the edge of the side. As she leans, Kaito catches sight of her hair, pulled back into a braid. It’s different on her, makes her seem almost…

Soft? Is that the right word he’s after, Kaito isn’t sure?

Oh jeez, is he watching her? He definitely is. God, Kaito knows it’s creepy to just watch someone but it’s _Aoko_ and recently she’s so distracting and it’s…

“Mmm,” Kaito says, trying to snap himself out of it. He’s _almost_ oblivious to the looks the other girls send him – knowing, amused – but not quite. He realises he’s got their attention again, at least. “Do you guys want some help?”

“Kaito,” Aoko says, letting out a scoff, “asking if he can help _clean,_ you must be an alien replacing him.”

He scowls, “I can clean.”

“Sure, you can Kaito,” Aoko says, and it’s clear she’s only humouring him. Which, quite frankly – _he cleans his own house thank you very much._ “Sure, you can.”

“Do you want the help or not?”

Aoko turns, looks between her clubmates, and then finally nods. She grabs a second cloth, passes it over to him with the directions of cleaning the sides opposite them.

“Maybe if Kuroba-kun’s really good,” Asuna says, “we’ll give you one of the buns.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Kaito says, focusing on wiping away flour instead. “I just want to go _home.”_

This time, he misses the girls winking at Aoko, as if to say, _‘you’re welcome, and good luck’._ He also misses the way Aoko glares at them all, red-faced and awkward.

* * *

“You’re wearing your hair differently,” Kaito says on the way home, and Aoko blinks, because this isn’t the normal kind of conversation they tend to have.

She lifts her hand to the braid, smiles to herself as she lets it drop again, her hair swishing behind her.

“Kanae asked if she could try braiding it,” she says. “She always wears hers in a braid, I think she just wanted someone else to try it too.”

Kaito hums. He says, “it’s – it kind of suits you.”

“Kind of?”

He startles. Only slightly, but enough that Aoko can catch the twitching of his fingertips as he tries not to get defensive. Kaito must still be practising his poker face like his father taught him to do when they were kids, because he manages to smooth his voice over.

“Yeah,” he says, “kind of. I’m used to your usual hairstyle, but this one’s not bad.”

Aoko lets out a small laugh, swings her bag in front of her ever so slightly. She says, “I bet you’re just saying that because I’m holding the buns right now.”

Shrugging, Kaito doesn’t say anything for a moment. And then, “It looks nice. I mean it.”

“Right, right.” It’s not that Aoko doesn’t believe him, it’s just. Kaito doesn’t really do compliments, not really. Not for _her._ It’s usually just banter and playful insults, not seriousness and niceties. “I think it’s definitely because of the food.”

“Heh,” Kaito says, and there’s the playfulness she’s been waiting for today. It’d been a little absent, for whatever reason. “You guys did say if I helped clean, I’d be allowed one, you’re not going to go back on that promise, are you?”

“It wasn’t me who made the promise,” Aoko laughs, and takes off racing down the street.

“Hey now!” Kaito says, and he’s very clearly chasing after her, she can feel his presence on her heels. Aoko laughs – it feels almost nice to be the one being chased, for once.

* * *

Asuna corners Aoko when she is washing dishes in the sink a few days later, her arms crossed and her expression stern. For a moment, it leaves her feeling nervous, anxious about whatever she’s done to disappoint her friend.

Then, Asuna says, “We’re going to phase two.”

“Phase two?”

Asuna nods her head, her bob bouncing with the movement. She says, “yes. I suppose plan B is more accurate, but phases sound more optimistic.”

Aoko is lost. She expresses as much, flicking water across at her friend.

“Phase two,” Asuna says, “is aimed at making Kuroba-kun realise you like him, and he likes you back, through the art of body language, and cookie cutters.”

_“Cookie cutters?”_

The smile she receives seems almost menacing as Asuna thrusts a finger towards her nose, Aoko going cross-eyed as she tries to focus on it. Quickly, Asuna turns, sweeping up something from a carrier bag she’s brought with her.

Aoko hadn’t even seen her bring it in, hadn’t even heard any plastic rustling. Jeez, Asuna can be sneaky sometimes.

“Exactly,” the girl says, lifting up the bag and pulling out a packet of cookie cutters. She holds them up and – ah – there it is. They’re heart shaped. “We’re bringing in the big guns!”

If cookie cutters are classed as the big guns, then Aoko isn’t quite sure what the little guns are like. Likewise, if cookie cutters are their big guns with stuff like this, then surely, they… there’s not a lot of hope for them, is there?

“Uh,” Aoko tries not to show the lack of excitement, but her eyes – dull – must give her away. Asuna’s shoulders drop. “Okay?”

“You’re not taking this seriously,” Asuna says. “My plan is brilliant. We keep the confessions low-key, leave him to read into the clues we leave him. Like heart shaped cookies, and the likes.”

Heart-shaped cookies, and other romantic symbols in her cooking? Oh god, as much as Aoko loves her friend, this isn’t going to be good enough to get things through to Kaito.

He’s like, so thick skulled on things like this.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Aoko says.

Placing the cookie cutters onto the counter, Asuna very slowly leans forward, pressing her finger into Aoko’s shoulder. Aoko wavers, rocking back the balls of her feet from the pressure.

“It’s definitely going to work!” Asuna says. There is little doubt in her voice, which is foolish, Aoko thinks. “You’re just looking at this without any optimism, Aoko!”

Aoko’s beginning to think that her friend has managed to trick her into thinking she’s cooler than she is. Not – not that she’s _uncool,_ per say, - but rather, she’d thought she was a cool and collected person and these past few days, she’s been anything but.

Now, flustered, claiming that these tricks absolutely work – how else did Aoko think she managed to win her girlfriend Kyoko over? – she seems much more ruffled.

“Asuna,” Aoko says, and now she places both hands on her friend’s shoulders, shaking her head. She says, “Asuna, listen, this kind of thing is cute and all, but it’s not going to work on someone as oblivious and dense as Kaito.”

“Kyoko can be oblivious.”

 _“For a girl maybe,”_ Aoko sighs. “But a girl’s obliviousness has nothing on a boy’s obliviousness.”

Understanding doesn’t so much as swim through her friend’s eyes, as paddle with very weak strokes. It’s better than nothing, Aoko supposes.

“We start subtle,” Asuna says, “because I’ve already bought the cookie cutters now, but we don’t leave it at that. We build upon it.”

Clicking her fingers and pointing at her friend, Aoko nods. She says, “It’s better than the previous idea.”

Asuna flushes. She says, “It’s not my fault you want to go out with someone so dense when it comes to romance.”

“It’s not like I had a choice of who to pick!” Aoko says. She’d had little choice at all, it’d just _happened._ One day she’d not been in love with Kaito – at least, not knowingly – and the next, she’d been panicking over the fact she might be moderately in love with him.

Some people said falling in love was like falling asleep – slowly, and then all at once. Well, Aoko refuses that sentiment because well, _no._ Falling in love with Kaito was like being hit by a truck.

Dangerous, and not without the risk of fatal injury.

“That’s true,” Asuna says, finally, reaching up to pat Aoko on the shoulder. “I bet you wouldn’t want to change it to someone else though.”

Probably not.

* * *

They use the cookie cutters.

Heart shaped cookies are placed inside a little bag, wrapped up, and Aoko tries not to cringe at how utterly _cliché_ it feels to be giving someone heart-shaped cookies, but she does regardless.

“I hate this,” Aoko says, as she leaves the clubroom behind, only receiving a thumbs up from Asuna as she leaves.

“Good luck!” Asuna says, her voice chimed in with their other classmates. “Try to make it obvious!”

It’s going to go terribly, Aoko can already tell.

* * *

“We tried something different today,” Aoko says, and Kaito turns, looks back at her from where he’s been waiting by the school gates. He pushes away from the wall, falls into step beside her.

“Oh?” He asks.

“Yeah,” Aoko says, “we tried different shapes for the cookies and stuff, you know? These ones are for you.”

She passes a little bag of cookies over to Aoko, and Kaito takes them gingerly. He typically has them when he gets home, during homework and heist planning, but the look on Aoko’s face tells him he should be opening them now.

So, he does, pausing in his step so that he doesn’t do something stupid, like drop them or break them in two while undoing the ribbon on the bag.

A ribbon tying the bag together? Pretty fancy Aoko.

“Ah,” Kaito says, taking out one of the cookies. They’re heart-shaped, covering in a fine dusting of sugar. “These are cute.”

He bites into one, the sugar melting on his tongue, breaking the heart into two pieces. Then, he holds the bag out to her, an offer.

Aoko takes one slowly, bites into it.

Come to think of it, this is probably one of the only times he’s really seen her eating any of her own creations. She normally says that she’s already tried the things she makes in class and that she’s just sharing the leftovers.

“They’re good,” Kaito says, watching as Aoko nods along, almost hesitant. And then, “love hearts though – are you guys trying to make like, confessional cookies or something?”

It’s said to be teasing, and Kaito knows that he’s succeeded when Aoko flushes a deep crimson colour.

“No,” Aoko stutters, and then, at the sight of his raised brow, “maybe.”

“So, who is it?” Kaito asks. He pops the rest of the biscuit into his mouth, chews and continues, “who in the cooking club is looking to confess?”

Aoko’s eyes fill with what Kaito can only explain as a feral frustration. She looks, almost, like she’s going to hit him.

“What?”

“You’re so irritating,” Aoko says, shaking her head. She turns away from him. For a moment, Kaito is afraid she’ll stalk away, which is unnecessary, really, because he doesn’t even know what he’s done _wrong?_

“…I’m… sorry?”

“Why do they need to be the ones looking to confess?” Aoko stops walking now, cheeks red, her hands clasped together, white with pressure as she squeezes. “What if it were me trying to?”

“Why would you be looking to–” He pauses. “You’ve got a crush on someone?”

Kaito doesn’t really know how to respond to a declaration like that.

“I might,” Aoko says, crossing her legs and jutting her chin. “What of it?”

“What kind of guy would _you_ have a crush on?”

Aoko’s face seems to _burn._ She doesn’t say anything. Kaito wishes she would say something but she doesn’t.

“Wait,” he continues when the silence becomes overbearing. “Is that what all this cooking is about?”

“O-of course n-n–”

Kaito throws a finger out, pointing. “You’re using me as a taste tester for the guy you like!”

Aoko blinks. Dejected, she mutters, “…what? That – that doesn’t even make any sense.”

“It does!” Kaito claims. “Your using me to make sure all the things you make are edible and tasty, so when you give them to _him,_ they’re top tier! I _knew_ you were up to something.”

Perhaps because she’s been found out, Aoko’s eyes look slightly dull. Like a child that’s been caught out in the middle of her plot. Or a criminal in the throes of being caught.

“You’re…” Aoko lifts her hands up, buries her face in them. “Such an idiot…”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter than the first because focusing is difficult. BUT! I decided to add another chapter so we'll get the same planned wordcount. And I mean almost 4k is still a high wordcount so??

“So,” Aoko says when she heads into the clubroom the following day. “Trial one failed. _Drastically._ ”

Her clubmates all turn to her with staggered movements. Like they’re excited and want to hear the news but are already broken over the fact that the story ends in failure.

“Your shoulders look pretty tense today,” Kanae says, from where she’s paused in tying her apron. “Was it that bad?”

“Worse.”

“Need to just complain about how Kuroba-kun is a fool for a while?” Megumi asks, and Aoko – she wants to, really, because how can someone as smart as he is be so utterly _idiotic_? But first she needs to sit down.

“I–” She practically flings herself onto the stool beside Keiko, buries her head in her arms as she tries not to wither. “He’s such an idiot?”

Keiko leans forward, threading her fingers through Aoko’s hair in the way she has since they were little kids, and Aoko had needed help in relaxing. It helps.

“Some boys only see the biscuit shape,” Asuna says quietly, “and not the meaning behind it.”

Aoko peeks over the top of her arms, and mumbles, “oh no, he realises that the heart shape meant someone had a crush.”

Keiko’s fingers pause, for a fraction of a second, and then, they continue. “Did he think one of us had a crush?”

At first. Sure.

“I told him _I_ had a crush on someone,” Aoko continues. One of the stools scrape across the floor as Megumi pushes back off of it, rushing to get nearer.

“Oh? So there was _progress?”_

“Do you think Aoko would be this miserable, if there were progress?” Keiko asks.

Aoko blinks up at them.

“Look at her,” Keiko continues, “this is the look only an idiotic outburst can instil in a girl.”

“Kaito knows I have a crush,” Aoko says, shaking her head. “And has latched onto the idea that I’m making him taste-test my cooking, to make sure it’s good enough for my crush.”

Each of her friend’s nod, weighing up the information. Kanae winces. Asuna looks exasperated. Megumi lets out a long-suffering sigh.

Keiko, surprisingly, is the one who simply untangles her fingers from Aoko’s hair and claps her hands together instead.

“He’s an idiot,” Keiko says, “but this isn’t unsalvageable.”

“No?”

“Of course not,” Keiko says. “We just need you to centre the fact that your crush is on _him._ ”

Yeah, if it was that easy, and Aoko could just make that obvious, then she wouldn’t be burying her head in her arms, while sat in the clubroom.

“It’s rough being Aoko,” Kanae mutters, “having a boy so blind to her affections.”

Aoko lets out a sigh of her own.

* * *

So… Aoko has a crush.

And Kaito isn’t sure how he feels about it, but he can certainly say that he doesn’t _like_ it. Not that he can accurately pin down why he doesn’t like it – or well, maybe he can but just doesn’t want to.

Aoko likes someone else, right?

Maybe it’s because he doesn’t like the idea of Aoko focusing all her attention on some other guy. It’d be a pain if he was suddenly overstepping with his friendship, because of some other guy who might interpret things in the wrong way.

That’s it – Aoko having a crush changes things for them. Obviously.

It’s not because he doesn’t like the idea of Aoko liking someone else. It’s not because he’d much rather she like hi–

Oh.

Oh _goddammit._

“I’m such an idiot,” Kaito mutters to himself.

He doesn’t like the idea of Aoko having a crush on someone if it’s not _him._ He’s jealous of this guy.

“I… I like… Aoko?” He stutters over the words, his tongue trying to form them into sound.

 _Pokerface Kaito,_ he tells himself, _you can deal with this._

The only thing though, is he’s not really sure how he’s supposed to deal with stuff like this. Emotions that he’s been overlooking thinking about.

He’s only figuring it out, because Aoko’s admitted that she likes someone and Kaito’s _jealous._ What is he supposed to do now?

Kaito doesn’t know.

* * *

Trying to get Kaito to realise that she likes him seems to go awfully.

Maybe because he’s dense, but maybe also because Aoko herself, isn’t very good at confessions. She remembers how it took her weeks to admit to her father that she missed him during all his late nights at work, remembers how her words had sat swollen against her throat, incapable of being spoken.

“So, cookies aren’t explicit enough,” Megumi says finally, crossing her arms. “We need to be a little more obvious.”

“Chocolates?” Kanae asks.

Making chocolate from scratch sounds like it’d be difficult though. And Kaito _loves_ chocolate, there’s no way of being able to make something that’ll be good enough quality.

She tries to say no, but instead, finds her friends nodding viciously, running to find cocoa butter and cocoa powder.

She’s overwhelmed by them. Especially as Keiko rushes up to her, places an apron over her neck, tying the back up for her.

“Your chocolate will be extraordinary, Aoko.” Keiko says, “we’ll allow nothing less.”

Aoko swallows.

“How long are we going to be here for…?”

“As long as it takes.”

* * *

She gets out a lot later than they usually leave at.

Kaito isn’t waiting for her today, obviously, since it’s past six o’clock and she can only expect him to wait so long for her after school before he gets bored. And Kaito, well – he’s easily bored, Aoko’s always known that.

Which is okay, she guesses.

It’s not like it’s too dark out, or as if she’ll be walking home alone down any alleyways that swim with shadows. Aoko will be taking the main road home anyway, since she needs to grab groceries on her way back.

And by groceries, all she needs really, are some vegetables that she forgot to buy the other day. Some carrots and onions to put into the curry she plans to make.

No potatoes though. They’re too heavy.

The curry can be filled with the limited potatoes she has left in the pantry. She doesn’t care how important they are to the meals taste, Aoko doesn’t want to carry them home.

Talk about _effort._

She glances up at the sky as she’s walking, realises that the sky is grey, heavy with rainclouds. The store isn’t too far away, and hopefully she’ll be able to get there before the clouds start to weep, avoiding the showers.

Hopefully the grocery store will be able to sell her an umbrella. It’s only a small shop, so Aoko sort of doubts it.

“Still!” Aoko says to herself, curling her fingers into fists as she lifts them up, trying to cheer herself on. “There’s a chance they’ll sell them!”

The optimism lasts all of three minutes, and then, the rain begins to spit, then pour and Aoko finds her footsteps quickening in an attempt to reach the store, to find safety outside of the rain.

“This isn’t fair!” Aoko cries to herself as she races down the street, picking up into a run. She doesn’t feel comfortable sprinting in ballet trainers, the grips not enough to keep her from sliding, but she races along anyway.

Rain is horrible. She’d rather risk tripping than letting the rain soak into her school uniform.

And that, of course, through some sort of karmic justice, leads to her tripping over her own feet, stumbling onto the floor. She skids slightly, as she falls, schoolbag and homemade chocolates scattering against the pavement.

The floor is cold, and wet, and Aoko lets out a sound of restrained horror, a whine in her throat as she catches herself with her hands.

For a moment, she remains on the floor, lifting her head to make sure no one is around to notice her fall. Then, she reaches over to her school bag, pulling it nearer to her.

“The- The _chocolates!”_

Aoko shouldn’t be sat on the ground in the floor while it’s raining, but for a moment, as she watches the rain soak through the cloth-bag she’s placed the chocolates she’s made in, she feels almost like staying there, and simply _crying._

Then again… it is pretty cold.

She grabs the chocolate, resigned, and tries to push back her own tears. Jeez, she’s not some sort of _cry baby,_ why is she so upset about this?

Aoko pushes herself up, ignores the wince that spreads through her as she moves, and decides to continue to the store. Her school uniform drips as she walks – not running now, what’s the point, if she’s already soaked? – the fabric sticking to her skin.

Wet clothes are the worst.

“It can’t get any worse than this,” Aoko mutters to herself, “can it?”

Just thinking it probably means that now she _will_ find things getting worse, because that’s how her life seems to be going recently. Aoko doesn’t want to be overdramatic, but this is quite possibly one of the worst days she’s had in a while.

Aoko reckons it’s because it’s a Wednesday.

She hates Wednesdays.

Wednesdays are the devil.

“I just want to go home,” Aoko sighs, clutching the chocolates in her hand. She’ll have to throw them away when she finds a bin, discard them, her ruined attempts at chocolate.

She clutches them in her hand regardless as she stops by the store, waiting for the automatic doors to slide open. They’re slow, slower than they should be, but Aoko thinks maybe it’s her own impatience making it seem a longer wait.

Inside, the warmth calls to her.

She cuts inside, biting into her lip as she suppresses a shiver. The air conditioning blasts cold air at her almost immediately, the hairs of her arms standing on edge as goosebumps line her skin.

Why do they need the aircon on? Do they want Aoko to freeze?

The world is playing games with her, she’s sure of it. What next though? Let her guess – they’ll be out of the vegetables she’s after or something, right? That seems like it’d fit with how her walk home is going.

“Chill out,” Aoko tells herself, “you’re just being dramatic.”

They’ve still got vegetables left over.

She probably shouldn’t let as much relief spread over her face as she does, but this is… it makes everything seem so much better. Maybe Aoko is covered in rain, maybe her wrists hurt from catching herself, and the chocolates she made are ruined, but at least she has _carrots and onions._

You know, thinking about it properly, this isn’t really much of a win.

Thinking as such, Aoko slowly brings her attention away from the vegetables she’s picked up, holding them close to her body – she probably should’ve picked up a basket, but that would mean to have common sense – and heading towards the tills.

She gets a few steps forward, heading out of the aisle when she spots him.

Kaito.

He’s still in his school uniform, which is weird since it’s _Kaito,_ he _hates_ wearing his school uniform after school, always changes the second he gets home. Has he not been home yet?

Why hasn’t he been home yet?

Oh no, he’s not been with a girl he likes or something, has he?

Aoko doesn’t mean to drop the carrots but she does, and then, Kaito is surging forward, biting on his own laughter as he scoops them up. Kaito’s never talked about liking anyone before, so maybe it’s just her own thoughts running away with her, letting panic spread in.

Is she doing what Kaito’s doing, making assumptions? Probably.

It’d probably be for the best if she just asks, or… if she just stops thinking about it altogether.

“Oh jeez,” Kaito cackles, passing her the carrots back. He stops for a moment, looks her up and down, and then, promptly breaks out into laughter again. His shoulders quiver as he does. “You didn’t go swimming in the harbour, did you?”

Grappling with the carrots for a second, Aoko says nothing. She imagines she looks a state, her clothes sticking to her, dripping water across the grocery store. Her fringe drips water down her forehead.

Aoko frowns, takes a moment to shove the vegetables at Kaito, and then, wipes the water from her face.

“Why would I go swimming in the harbour, it’s _freezing.”_

She turns, expecting Kaito to follow after her, and is inwardly grateful when he does. His footsteps are quiet behind her, unlike the squelching each of her footsteps make.

Oh god, _wet socks,_ what even is her life?

Kaito laughs, only pausing when Aoko glares at him. If he could raise his hands, Aoko gets the impression that he would.

“Okay, okay, it’s uh… not that funny?”

Even if he says that, he doesn’t school his expression any to hide his amusement. It makes Aoko want to grab the carrots again just so she can throw them at his head.

“Whatever,” she says, turning away, “I don’t care.”

Perhaps she shouldn’t speed up, turning into the next aisle without waiting for Kaito to follow suit, but she does. It probably seems like she’s storming off, and she doesn’t mean to, not really, but she doesn’t exactly feel like being laughed at.

“Aoko.”

She’ll pick up some rice crackers too, something for her to chew on when she gets home. Something to snack on when she’s doing her homework – a treat for herself because today officially _sucks._

“Hey,” Kaito practically jumps in front of her, bouncing to a stop in front of her. He’s not laughing any more, lips tight and… is that concern? “Aoko, hey, what’s up?”

Aoko doesn’t want to get into it.

How would she? She’d not be able to say it completely – how she’d ruined her attempt at making something he would like, because she likes him, and wanted him to enjoy the chocolates.

It’s a petty reason to be upset, she knows it is.

Of all the reasons to get ups-

“Oh hey,” Kaito leans forward, brows furrowed, “hey don’t cry, it’s– I’m sorry–”

She grabs the rice crackers, lifts her hands up to her cheeks and sure enough, those are tears. Why’s she _crying over this?_

“It’s so stupid,” Aoko says, finally, giving in. “I just tripped on the way here and what I made today got ruined, that’s al- what are you doing?”

Trying to balance the vegetables so he’s carrying them all with one arm, Kaito pauses. He glances at her, wedging the final onion in the crevice between his elbow.

“Balancing,” Kaito says, and then, an awkward shuffle as he comes a little closer. “Because you handed me all these vegetables and that makes this difficult.”

Aoko blinks across at him.

“What?”

“Come here,” he says, and then, reaching around her, he grasps her shoulder, bringing him closer to her in a one-armed hug. Aoko stumbles, but he keeps her from tripping as he turns her around.

Ahh.

_Ahh._

She’s pressed against his chest – she’s crying and she’s being hugged by Kaito and it’s impossible to lift her arms up to hug him back because of the way his arm is curled around her shoulders.

Aoko relaxes into him.

God, when was the last time she hugged Kaito? Years no doubt. They grew out of friendly affection years ago. Then again – when was the last time she cried in front of him, either? She normally keeps it quiet.

“It’s okay,” Kaito says, and Aoko is reluctant to move back, to say anything, because the moment she does, he’ll let go. She likes being close to Kaito like this, loves it even. Perhaps she’s selfish for wanting to stay like this a little longer, but Aoko doesn’t care.

“I know I can just remake them,” Aoko mumbles into his shoulder, “but I was just excited over these.”

Kaito gives her a small squeeze, and then, almost too soon, he’s weakening his grip around her, making it so she can break free.

Aoko doesn’t want to move. So, she doesn’t.

“It’s okay,” Kaito says again, softly, a croon that’s calmer than most he’s ever heard him speak before, “you can make it again, it’s the process that’s fun, right?”

Aoko wants to nod her head, because she’d had so much fun with the girls making it. Even if it had taken a long time, even if she’d gotten a lot of cocoa on the counter while sieving, even if the chocolates had been hard to get out of the moulds.

But that hadn’t been the point.

“I just,” she lifts her chin a bit, leans back ever so slightly so she can look up at him, “really wanted you to try them.”

Kaito looks down at her, and maybe it’s because she’s so close that she can see the way his lips twitch. Not from laughter, but rather, like he’s trying to keep his expression from shifting.

“Yeah?” He says. “They were good enough you wanted them taste-tested?”

“No, they–” she pauses, trails off. For a moment, Aoko lets the words linger on her lips, tries to shape them against her tongue, feel the weight of them. “They were for you. I made them for _you_.”

Kaito’s lips part, mouth ajar. She can hear him breathing, the sharp inhale where she’s practically admitted – he must understand what she means, right? That they aren’t for someone else. Because really–

“Who else would I make them for?”

He doesn’t respond, simply takes a moment to look down at her. It’s only his arm around her that’s keeping her from stumbling back, and Aoko prepares herself for the moment he releases her, but he doesn’t.

“Aoko–”

She glances up, toying at her lip with her teeth. Nervousness spreads through her, because this is _it,_ Kaito _knows now._ It’s both an exhilarating and terrifying thought.

“Do you–”

“Kaito I–”

There’s a small thudding sound as some of the carrots drop onto the floor, Kaito unable to keep them balanced in his arm. Aoko jumps back, glancing at the floor, glancing _around_.

They’re stood in the store and she’d almost forgotten where they are. Her face flushes, Opposite her, Kaito’s cheeks warm too. He leans down, grabs the carrots, and refuses, for a moment, to look her in the eye. Which is easy enough, because Aoko is doing the same.

Their… whatever this has been – does this class as a _moment_ if Aoko didn’t openly _say it_ , if Kaito didn’t respond? – isn’t something truly private. God – it’s been caught on the CCTV, and now there’s going to be proof of the moment when Aoko lost all her heart completely…

She is… so embarrassed.

“We should pay,” Aoko says, because it’s better than admitting to her feelings. Kaito pretty much _knows_ now, that’s… mortifying enough. “I need to get started on dinner for when Dad gets back from work.”

“Yeah…” Kaito says. He hesitates a moment, in following Aoko down the aisle. “Aoko?”

Oh God. No.

She turns. Offers a small smile, hoping it masks any dread for how admitting will have… changed things.

“Yes?” She asks.

“Those chocolates,” he says, and Aoko flushes again. If he weren’t carrying all the vegetables, Aoko just _knows_ he’d be scratching at his cheek with nervousness. Apprehension? “I’d have liked them.”

Aoko lets out a small laugh. She shakes her head, “You don’t even know what they tasted like.”

“You made them,” he says, moving forward now, to meet her at the end of the aisle. “I like everything you make.”

“You do?”

“Of course, I do idiot,” Kaito says, and his cheeks are burning as brightly as Aoko imagines her own must be. He pauses, “So stop crying and make me them again.”

“You’re really demanding you know,” Aoko says, as they move to the cashier. “I never get anything in return for making you food.”

“You need something in return?” Kaito asks.

“If you’re going to demand chocolates then yes,” She places the rice crackers down, grabs the vegetables, and waits for the cashier to bag them up. “Its not fun anymore if it’s a demand.”

“Then don’t make me them then!”

“Oh, so now you don’t _want_ to eat my cooking. How rude!”

The cashier, lost, totals her costs, and Aoko passes the correct change over.

“There’s no winning with you!”

“Of course not, you’re a loser Kaito.” Aoko takes the grocery bag, lips pulling up a little as she heads for the door. She pauses, glancing at the rain – she’d almost forgotten about it.

“Ha, takes one to _know one_.” He sticks his tongue out at her, petty and altogether stupid. It brings a laugh bubbling from her lips. Kaito is _ridiculous._ “Oh, hey wait a sec.”

Aoko waits. She watches as Kaito removes his blazer, lifting it about his head. Squints at him.

“Come here,” he says, “I know you’re already soaked but I don’t want you to dissolve or anything.”

“You trying to call me a witch?”

“Nah, that’s not you.” Kaito stares her down, stubborn, waiting until Aoko comes nearer, under the comfort of his blazer, invading his personal space for protection from the rain. “You’re just like sugar at this point now, with all that baking.”

“Ha,” she lets out a huffed laugh. “If anyone’s like sugar it’s you. Since I’m always giving you what I make.”

“Can’t you let me call you sweet?”

“Nope,” Aoko sticks her tongue, lips tugging up. “I refuse.”

“Well I take it back,” Kaito says, “if anything you’re just salt. Go dissolve then, there’s no room for salt when I’m this sugary. It’s a horrible mix.”

“Kaito,” Aoko says after a moment. He turns to her, amused. “You know absolutely _nothing_ about baking. A pinch of salt mixes in well.”


End file.
